In the morning she is waking. With the gold dust in her hair. She is beauty, oh slightly broken. But I love her laying there. . Spanish lady, treat her kindly.
You can have it, I don't want it, and when you've got it, I'll be gone. It won't matter what you're saying when the damage has all been done. . Can't seem to keep the faith, as if that's all I need to do.